Stranger
by Dwarven Runes
Summary: Smaug has strange dreams that make him feel odd...


The dragon opened his eyes sleepily and lifted his head. He gazed around with a somewhat confused look. Gold. Jewels. Mountains and mountains of beautiful shinies. All of them were his. All belonged to him. They were his, they were his, they were his. His his his his his. They were his. But then why did he feel like they weren't? It was because of that dream, he was sure of it. He'd had that strange dream again, the one about being small and pale and having hair instead of beautiful shiny scales. It was a strange dream, one that left him feeling strange in his own skin.

He blinked the sleep away furiously. There. That was better. Perhaps it was time for another nap… But what had woken him in the first place? He glanced around with his sharp dragon eyes, absorbing every detail, and noticed disconcertedly that a cup was gone. He smelled the air, and caught the scent of something new, something… interesting. Curious, he called out, "Thief, I know you're there." He heard a shifting in his treasure hoard as someone, something, crouched down low. He looked in the direction of the noise, but saw no one. Ah. Invisible. The thief had something to make him invisible, which meant that the crouching was just instinctual, and had no real purpose. "Why can't I see you?" he asked as he crept towards the source of the disturbance. The thief said nothing, but the dragon's keen ears picked up the creature's rapid breathing. He stalked closer.

"Oh, come on. You know I've already found you. What makes you go unseen to my keen eyes? Something… magic, perhaps?" A sharp intake of breath. "Ah, yes, that's what it is. Shall I run down the list of possible items for you?" There was still no response. The dragon continued casually, "I'm going to eat you anyway, you know. You might as well get rid of whatever it is that makes you invisible. I enjoy seeing my victims' faces before I gobble them down." There was a skitter of gold coins as the thief took flight. The dragon easily kept pace, grinning his toothy grin. "Oh, come on, thief." He leaped forward, and sprawled himself in the creature's path. "Give me something good."

The thief rolled to a stop, judging by the sound of the shifting gold. The dragon could hear its heavy breathing. "Now, since you've stopped running I'm going to ask you to take off that ring. Do it, and we'll have a nice discussion before I eat you. Don't do it, and I'll eat you anyway." The thief took a few gulps of air before replying. "What would we talk about?" he asked. The dragon smiled enigmatically. Why did its voice sound familiar?

"Fine." The thief suddenly appeared before the dragon, and they looked at one another.

"How did you know?" the thief asked abruptly.

"About the ring? Magic, my dear thief."

"Right. But seriously, how?"

The dragon's tail twitched in amusement. "I could feel it. You might want to be careful with that thing. It reminds me of something I haven't felt in ages, a very powerful thing."

"What?"

"Ah, that remains to be seen. But not by you. I'm going to eat you. So. Are you scared, strange little man?"

"Yes. Not a man, by the way."

"Hm. Something else, then. Well, what else do you have to say? You've got more than that. Go ahead."

"You are bloody fantastic."

"Really? Most people say I'm a monster."

"Well, I mean, you do eat people. But you are, and I really do mean it, bloody fantastic. The way the light glints off your scales is beautiful. You are extremely graceful. Your eyes shine like jewels. You are, without a doubt, the most beautiful creature I have ever seen."

The dragon was touched. Always before, he had been the creature of destruction and fire and death. He had always thought that he was beautiful, but never before had anyone else said as much. This emotion was so strange for a dragon. Strange, like the dream. Strange, like the weirdly familiar voice of the man, for he could think of nothing else to call the thief before him. Strange and stranger still.

On an impulse, he craned his head forward to get a good look at the man who didn't flinch when a dragon's eye, located just above a mouth with sharp teeth and deadly fire, stopped to look at him from just five feet away.

"Strange," the dragon mused, pulling back. "Strange. I feel as though I know you from somewhere. Why is that, little thief? Why do I know your face? Know your voice?"

The thief blinked. "Why, I thought it was only me. I know your voice, though I can't say I've ever seen a face quite like yours. This whole encounter has been strangely familiar."

The dragon gazed down at the man. "Yes, I feel the déjà vu as well."

He was struck by a sudden thought, a sudden idea that connected everything together. "Tell me," the dragon said urgently, leaning his head down again, "Do you ever dream of a city? A stone city, with tall buildings and lights everywhere?"

The thief's eyes widened. "Yes. Yes, I do. And there's a number. Uh... 221B."

"Baker Street. London."

"Oh God. Sherlock."

"John."

The dragon and the man stared at each other.

The dragon coughed, and turned his head. "Yes. Well. I can't eat you now, can I? Be on your way, whatever you are. Whoever you are."

The thief smiled. "Bilbo Baggins, oh great and powerful Smaug. Barrel rider."

The dragon snorted as the man trotted off. "Barrel rider indeed. He comes from Laketown."

* * *

**Hey guys, what's up? I hope you enjoyed this oneshot. I tried my best with the characters, but if you could let me know what you thought, that'd be great. **

**Please review, follow, favorite, come back to read again... whatever makes you happy. **

**Thanks for reading, and stay awesome! **


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